Nightcrawler reported that all the demons had just disappeared, without any signs of what happened; they were just suddenly gone. That naturally caused the rest of them to send me looks, because wasn't that what I was claiming?
But how did I know?
Still, it was considered bad etiquette to ask others about any possible mutations or superpowers.
Most people would only give vague explanations on what they could do. Like with the twins. They only spoke of the effort they could cause, not how they did it. I admit, I found it refreshing that someone so young was that wise.
Or maybe I was just spending too much time around Mordred.
Either way, with the crisis being solved, the question was what to do next. And it wasn't one we wanted to answer openly. We had a brief discussion about where we should go to talk in peace.
A place where Laure could rest, maybe even get help.
Fantomex offered us to use EVA, because naturally, the white style French Deadpool had a Bio-Mechanical "Ship", because why not?
Honestly, the strangeness of the Marvel world never stopped shocking me. Some tech was out of this world, and others seemed to be shockingly primitive.
Nightcrawler offered to teleport us into the ship, something we accepted, and it was an interesting experience.
I had an idea of how his power worked. It wasn't just teleporting from one place to another instantly; there was a delay.
This was because, to teleport, he actually moved into another hellish dimension, and then left it again, entering in one location, leaving it, appearing in another.
It all happened very quickly, with almost no time to notice it at all. But well, I wasn't normal, what other people might miss, I saw.
That one moment when he held my arm and dragged me into hell, I was able to see through the thick sulfuric smoke, I could see what even he himself didn't see. I saw the hellish dimension clearly.
I saw endless mountains of eternal ice, surrounded by seas of fire, deserts of skulls rather than sand, and planes of blades covered in blood, as well as forests of rotting flesh.
It was a realm of nightmares made real, a horrid sight. It was a good thing that the place Nightcrawler appeared was covered in smoke, stopping people from seeing this sight, or they might never recover.
But, as soon as it appeared, it disappeared again as we entered into the real world once more. This time inside a small gleaming chamber that pulsed faintly with artificial life.
The interior of E.V.A. was smooth, seamless, and startlingly white—like the inside of an egg carved by alien hands. The walls curved organically, no sharp angles, no visible seams or joints. Light shimmered from strips embedded in the ceiling like veins beneath translucent skin, soft and pale blue. It wasn't harsh or sterile, but it was cold in a way that wasn't temperature.
This was not a ship built.
It was grown.
And it was alive.
Panels shifted slightly as we entered, like lungs adjusting to sudden noise. A faint hum resonated through the floor, the sound of thought in motion. I could feel the ship listening.
But while E.V.A. had many wonders, space was not one of them.
We'd arrived in what must have been the main cabin—a command deck, lounge, and hold all rolled into one. It could have comfortably seated three or four. We were nearly ten.
Laure collapsed into the first available seat, staff clattering to the floor. Lancelot knelt at her side, trying his best to tend to her wounds. They weren't life-threatening, not anymore, but they were still painful.
The twins and Mordred seemed to share a fascination with the strange place they found themselves in, looking curiously around, rubbing their hands on the walls. Mordred even gave the wall a few soft kicks to test it.
Nightcrawler was able to crouch on the ceiling, leaving a bit more floor space to the rest of us, but there wasn't a lot to go around.
As for Fantomex himself, he took the pilot's seat.
"I see minimal chairs and no tea," Mordred muttered. "Great ship, ten out of ten."
Fantomex, who had dropped effortlessly into the pilot's chair like he owned the galaxy, gestured broadly. "She's built for elegance, not slumber parties."
"Built for three, currently holding nine," I said. "So forgive me if I don't admire the elegance."
"It breathes, you know," Manon whispered, glancing at the wall. "It's watching us."
Fantomex smirked, "Go on, EVA, introduce yourselves."
There was a pause. Then a soft ripple passed through the walls, like a shiver through water.
"Bonjour," came a voice—feminine, low, almost melodic, with just enough static to suggest it wasn't entirely organic. "I am E.V.A., companion and vessel of Fantomex. You are currently inside my body. Please behave."
Maxime laughed. "A talking plane? Or is it an alien spaceship?"
"It's a her, not a thing," Manon said, telling her brother off for being rude. "It's a pleasure to meet you Eva, I'm Manon, and this fool is my brother, Maxime, a pleasure to meet you."
E.V.A. replied without hesitation. "The pleasure is mine, Manon. And I have catalogued your brother's foolishness."
"Oi!" Maxime snapped, though his grin said he wasn't truly offended. "Not even five minutes in here and I'm already being slandered by architecture."
"She's not architecture," Mordred muttered, still kicking at a panel. "She's a haunted egg."
"I am not haunted," E.V.A. said coolly. "Merely sentient, sapient, and significantly more composed than the average human."
Laure, who had been breathing steadily while Lancelot dabbed her forehead with a cloth, opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling. "Did… did the ship just speak?"
"Yes," Lancelot confirmed. "Though it seems to prefer sarcasm over scripture."
"It's unnatural," Laure said, her voice still ragged. "This is not how vessels should behave. Machines do not speak with thought or… personality."
"Well, Eva isn't just a machine; she is my partner, through thick and thin." Fantomex said with a flourish, spreading his gloved hands as if unveiling a masterpiece.
"That's… heresy," Laure whispered, half to herself, half to the ceiling. "That's not how the world works. That's not how creation is meant to function."
E.V.A. responded with no visible offense. "Theological errors aside, I am functioning well within parameters. Perhaps better than most humans currently present."
Maxime choked back a laugh. "This ship might be the best thing I've seen all week."
"I do enjoy a good personality in my tools," Mordred said, giving the wall another satisfied thump. "If my sword could talk, I'd probably get along with it better than with most people."
"Mordred, do remember that you stole that sword from me, so if it could talk." I didn't say more, didn't have to, Mordred knew well enough that the sword of kings likely wouldn't have been friendly with her.
She just clicked her tongue and quickly changed the topic. "So, where can I get a thing like this? It's pretty neat not gonna lie."
Fantomex leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Alas, my dear Mordred, E.V.A. is one of a kind. You'd have more luck stealing the moon than replicating her."
"Bet I could do both," Mordred said, half-joking, half-serious.
"I would advise against trying," E.V.A. said. "I am rather attached to my current pilot."
"She says that," Fantomex added, "but I suspect she likes the compliments more than the company."
"She is correct," E.V.A. replied without missing a beat. "Flattery is preferable to most human interaction."
Manon smiled faintly, then glanced at Laure, whose expression was still caught between awe and disapproval. "You alright?"
Laure blinked, sitting a bit more upright. "I'm not dying… but honestly, how can you all be so calm about everything? You just fought demons of hell, and now, you are inside a living machine… shouldn't you also be freaked out?"
Maxime raised a hand. "Oh, I'm freaked out. Thoroughly. I'm just choosing to pretend it's all a fever dream and roll with it until I wake up."
Manon elbowed him. "You're enjoying yourself."
"Obviously. But I can still be existentially disturbed on the inside."
Nightcrawler gave Laure a gentle nod. "It is strange, yes. But the world has been strange for a long time… ever since Camelot appeared, bringing legends to life, proving that magic is real, that god is real… I'm a catholic myself, but still, I was shocked to learn that the grail is real and all that."
Laure blinked at him, taken off guard. "You… believe?"
He offered a soft, almost sheepish smile. "I know, most look at me and think I'm a demon, or at least worship demons right? But no, I'm raised to believe in god."
Laure stared for a long moment, then looked toward me, her voice quieter now. "And you—what are you?"
"A knight of justice," I answered, "With my sword in hand." I raised Secace Morgan slightly. "I shall cut down the evil witch Morgana!"
"That's not a sword… that's a gun." Fantomex said. And everyone looked at me funny.
Thanks to the enchantments masking my identity, no one here could truly see me for who I was. Not with certainty. Not unless I allowed it. Their minds twisted what stood before them into something they could accept. To them, I was no more than a dramatic cosplayer with good posture and a better tailor.
Honestly, I had been worried that the twins might see right through it, but it seemed that either they weren't experienced enough, or their powers worked differently from what I assumed.
"It might look like a gun, work like a gun, but it is a sword." I corrected him. Not that any of them believed me for a second.
Maxime raised an eyebrow. "Well, it does look like it could cut someone in half if you swing it hard enough."
"I'd rather not test that," Manon said dryly.
"It's definitely a sword," Mordred chimed in, with a smug nod. "And I say that as the local expert on stabbing things."
E.V.A. added, "Classification aside, I thank you for saving my pilot from those creatures; had it not been for you, I might have had to act myself, and that draws a lot of attention to us."
"Anyone willing to risk their lives to fight for others, of their own free will, is something I can respect. More so someone with style, because long coats are cool." I said, nodding towards the ship.
"I want a coat as well! It's not fair that I don't have one," Mordred complained loudly.
"I think you look cool!" Maxime said, admiring her racer outfit. Because who wouldn't? That was an outfit I had made for Mordred, based on a design Mordred had used in another FATE timeline.
"It is cool!" Mordred said, pleased with the praise. "But it could be even cooler with a nice coat!"
"Mordred, the outfit would be ruined by a coat, that outfit of yours? It's perfect just like it is, perfect for you." "I said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Fine! If you like it that much… I won't wear a coat." She finally said, her face almost as red as her outfit. She was happy, but also embarrassed and unsure of what to do.
She still wasn't used to affection.
"So, what are we here for anyway?" She finally couldn't stand it anymore and changed the topic.
"Well, I figured staying around you gets you people locked up; the police aren't friendly to mutants these days." Fantomex said as he leaned back in his chair.
"But surely we can go somewhere with more space?" I asked, "And get the exorcist some healing, maybe return her to the church?"
(End of chapter)
E.V.A. – Not just a ship. E.V.A. is a living, sentient techno-organic organism that serves as Fantomex's constant companion. She's his vehicle, communications hub, and occasional voice of reason. Think spaceship meets sarcastic digital assistant with actual feelings—and no patience for fools.